


Just In Case

by madjm



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: And being freaking separated again, F/M, basically that's it, smoochin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madjm/pseuds/madjm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everything goes to shit when we split up," she said. Bellamy, Clarke, and another temporary goodbye. Post season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just In Case

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted some Bellarke smoochies. No other reason for this, tbh.

“I don’t like this,” Clarke said, pacing the small room while Bellamy packed. “I don’t like it at all.”

 

“Really?” he said drily, shoving a spare pair of socks in his pack. “I didn’t realize that, since you’ve only said so about a hundred times. But please tell me again.”

 

“We can’t trust them.”

 

He sighed, tossing the pack on his cot. “Clarke …”

 

“You know what they did to —”

 

“Lexa’s lover, yeah, you told me.” Bellamy took her by the shoulders, looking down at her. “First of all, they have a different leader these days. Second of all, Lexa? Not the most reliable narrator.”

 

She opened her mouth to reply but he talked over her. “Third, Echo is my friend, Clarke. If she says it’ll be safe to meet with them, I trust her.”

 

Clarke’s hands curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms, but she tried to keep her expression neutral — or at least, no more annoyed than it already was. The Ice Nation woman, Echo, was a regular visitor to Camp Jaha, after having shown up to thank Bellamy during the two months Clarke had been gone. 

 

She seemed to get along with everyone in camp — Bellamy especially — and just so happened to be smart, tough, passionate and beautiful. She seemed to be a little in awe of Clarke because of what had happened at Mount Weather, and she had taken Clarke aside at their first meeting to thank her for her role in liberating the mountain. She’d been nothing but friendly to Clarke.

 

Clarke kind of hated her. 

 

She tried her best to hide it, to be nice, to bury the ache she got in the pit of her stomach when Echo was around. It was especially annoying because Clarke didn’t know why she hated her so much.

 

(That was a lie; she knew perfectly well. Echo made no secret of the fact that she was interested in Bellamy, and why should she? He was gorgeous and smart and brave, basically the best person Clarke knew. And he was single, perfectly free to do whatever (whoever) he wanted. It bothered Clarke that she couldn’t tell if he was interested in Echo. She didn’t like having to wonder what the two were up to in the time they spent alone, and she hated the fact that she couldn’t lie to herself about the reason why. The worst thing was constantly forcing down the childish urge to throw her arms around him and tell Echo, “He’s mine, back off!”)

 

Clarke sighed, forcing her fists to loosen. “Everything goes to shit when we split up,” she said, looking away, over his shoulder to avoid his perceptive eyes. He could read her way too well, and nowadays that just made everything extra complicated. “I just have a bad feeling I … we won’t see you again.”

 

Bellamy huffed out a laugh, squeezing her shoulders slightly before releasing them. “Well, that’s cheery. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

 

“It’s not you I lack confidence in,” she grumbled, pacing away from him as he picked the pack up again. She leaned back against the cool metal of the ark wall, watching as he looked through the bag again, nodding to himself before zipping it closed.

 

Swallowing down the sudden urge to cry, she let her eyes wander around the room. Aside from a small stack of salvaged books and the drawing she’d done of him and Octavia that he had stuck up on the wall beside his cot, the room was devoid of any personality. She knew it was because he spent hardly any time in here, but she couldn’t help but think that it would be nothing but a blank slate when he left, as though he’d never been here at all.

 

Bellamy dropped the pack beside the door, walking over to stand in front of her again. “So. I don’t exactly know when we’ll be back. A couple weeks, probably. But Kane’s pretty confident he can get a good alliance out of this.”

 

She nodded, then took a deep breath, opening her arms to hug him. Bellamy gave the best hugs, wrapping his arms entirely around her and burying his nose in her hair. She always felt safe in his arms, and it was really hard to make herself let go. “May we meet again,” she whispered into his shoulder before pulling away.

 

He shook his head and grinned at her. “Screw that. We _will_ meet again, Clarke.”

 

She smiled shakily at him, clasping her hands together to stop herself from reaching for him as he turned away. He didn’t get far, though, barely a step before he stopped. “But just in case,” he muttered, turning back and cupping her face in his hands, thumbs brushing her cheeks.

 

It happened so fast, but later when she looked back on the moment (“obsessed over it,” according to Raven, but Clarke insisted that was an exaggeration) she realized he’d waited, given her the chance to back away, to stop him from lowering his head and pressing his lips to hers.

 

Moving away was the furthest thing from her mind.

 

His mouth slid over hers, warm and gentle and pretty much perfect, lips softer than she’d expected (because she _had_ thought of it, more often than she would ever admit), and it was ridiculous that so small a kiss could wreck her — but that was Bellamy Blake for you.

 

Total asshole.

 

It was over a moment later, and the realization that the jerk was actually just going to walk out broke Clarke out of her momentary paralysis.

 

“Bellamy!”

 

He stopped, turning to face her, his expression carefully blank. But she knew him better than anyone, and she saw the fear in his eyes. There was no pretending that a kiss was just a kiss between the two of them, and they both knew it.

 

“You can’t just … just do that and leave,” she said, fisting her hands in his jacket. 

 

“Clarke, I’m —”

 

“I swear to God, if you say you’re sorry, I’m going to punch you in the face,” she said, yanking his jacket to pull him closer. “Now kiss me goodbye, like you mean it this time.”

 

The smile that spread across his face was honestly the most gorgeous thing she’d seen on Earth. “I don’t take orders from you, Clarke,” he said.

 

Growling, she stood on tiptoe and crashed her lips into his. It only took a beat for him to kiss her back, pushing her against the wall (and because he was Bellamy, cradling her head so she wouldn’t bump it) and opening his mouth to hers.

 

It was like hurtling toward Earth, like galloping on a horse the first time, like her free-fall from Mount Weather with a much, much more pleasant landing. She may have started the kiss, but Bellamy threw himself into it with an intensity that left her dizzy and weak at the knees, only capable of wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body into his like they could just merge and never separate again.

 

The sharp knock on his door and shout that it was time to leave were stark reminders that they did, in fact, have to separate. They stood for a moment, both breathing heavily, foreheads touching, before he sighed and stepped back.

 

He slipped his hand in hers, tugging her toward the door, where he scooped up his pack and threw it over his shoulder.

 

“Clarke, I …”

 

She shook her head and forced a smile. “Watch your back. Don’t die.”

 

He smiled and ducked his head. “Still don’t take orders from you.”

 

She waited until he met her eyes again before speaking. “Yeah, you kinda do.”

 

Instead of answering, he smirked, brushing a kiss over her mouth before disappearing out the door.

 

“We _will_ meet again,” she whispered to the empty room.


End file.
